


Bed

by andrasteshaircurlers



Series: Tales Of A Theirin Bastard And His Thorned Rose In Leather Armor [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Assassin - Freeform, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), Camp, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Near Death, Nightmares, Sleep, Smut, The Calling, The Legion of the dead, Wedding Night, bed, in camp, injured, sleeping, to bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 14:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2231709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasteshaircurlers/pseuds/andrasteshaircurlers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of small drabbles in chronological order centering loosely around the theme "bed".</p><p>Including: Torania's realization about what Alistair was doing to try to cheer her up in her greif over her family, a bit of Torania and Alistair's wedding night, and the assassination attempt that gave Torania the nasty scar on her side</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed

* * *

 

She wakes screaming. Bodies… Their bodies…  She never liked her brother’s wife… and  to be honest their kid wan an idiot… but, oh Maker, to see them lying there… and her father! Her mother and her father… she left them. Just left them. She had to, but she left them all behind.

She’s woken the grey warden Duncan. He has his blades drawn as if he had expected an attack. He’s looking at her sympathetically. She can’t bare that. She looks in her pack for a somewhat clean cloth, shoves it in her mouth, and then turns over on her side.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s hard to find a place to cry alone in camp. Hard to find a place where no one will spot you. And _he_ has a knack for spotting you. She remembers back at Ostagar that time she just started crying out of nowhere to her complete and utter horror.  She had fallen back hopping to slink to the back of the group so no one could see her and  she could get herself under control.  She rememberes him turning as if in slow motion. Frowning. “Whats wrong?”

“Nothing!” she remembers snapping. "I got dirt in my eye!" Stomping to the front of the group and leaving him standing there frowning.  Why does he always have to spot you?

Finally she crawls into her bedroll to cry.  She hears footsteps. Oh no! Someone is still awake! She recognizes the footsteps. _His_. Pass her by. Pass her by… Damn. He stops in front of her. She keeps her eyes closed pretending to be asleep. The tear tracks on her cheeks damning evidence. She feels a male finger touch one of them and then his voice. “Chompers? Boy? New scene tomorrow morning during breakfast alright? Alright, yes fine you evil hound you can spill food all over me.” Her heart thuds. Wait…. Hes been pulling those for her?

 

* * *

 

 

She climbs into the bedroll next to his mostly naked body. The thick fur surrounds them keeping them warm, but even more their own bodies intertwined give off heat that wards against the bitter Ferelden night chills. She feels every inch of him pressed against her. The scars, the muscles, the strong arms at wrap around her as if to keep her sheltered from the horrors of the night. And miraculously they do.

She no longer cries herself to sleep every night,  she is shocked to discover.  The first night he joins her in her tent the tears don’t come. It is no longer her alone in the dark. There is him.  Like a magnet pulling away from the darkness, her thoughts don’t drift to the hole in her heart. They drift to him.

How he breathes as he sleeps, how wonderful he is, How she can’t believe she found him, or he found her. How she will do anything for him, how she loves him so much.  She reaches out feeling the stubble on his chin and giggles as he makes a funny face in his sleep. Then she curls up closer to him and feels his arms tighten gently around her, and she sighs happily in his hold. Who knew it was possible to feel like this about someone?

And then the nightmares stop. It’s as if his arms are a talisman warding them away. She no longer sees the dead faces of her family, the bodies crumpled on the floor. She no longer wakes screaming. For the first time in forever the next time her eyes open after closing is at dawn, to see him getting dressed. He apologizes thinking he woke her. Little does he know. She feels wonderful. She tackles him, nearly knocking over the tent. They go down in a tangle of arms in legs and she is kissing his face.

“Didn’t we do this last night?”

“Not enough.” No, not enough.

 

* * *

 

 

He stumbles into the room and she is there to greet him.

 “It’s done then?”

 “It’s done Maker help us.” He falls into her arms and she just holds him. What words are there to say that will make this better? 

 “I always knew you were strong love.” She takes his face in her hands. “You’ve possibly saved us both.”

 “By having sex with Morrigan!” He squeeks, his voice breaking.

 “By having sex with Morrigan” She holds his eyes. She wants him to look Into hers and see that there is no resentment there. Nothing has changed in terms of her feeling for him. She wants him to see that this one night with Morrigan means nothing to her but a chance at life. And she wants to search his eyes for resentment. Does he blame her for having him do this? She can’t find any but she tucks that possibility away with that small fear inside her that he blames her for making him king. Then she burries both as deep down as she can. “C-mon love let’s go to bed. We could still die tomorrow.”

 "Lovely, thanks for reminding me."

 

* * *

 

 

The silken coverlets are tangled around them. Their bodies intertwined in the passion of two lovers who can scarcely believe they are alive. They did it.The archdemon is gone. And maker help them they are alive. Their mouths meet and she closed her eyes taking in the taste of him. Her head arches back and she lets out a low moan. He can feel himself inside her. His mouth travels slowly along her smooth skin pausing in turn on each of her nipples which perk up even more then before. Their eyes meet and they both smile like children in on the same naughty prank.

 

* * *

 

He carries her to their bedroom. The white shroud of her wedding gown is drabbed around her body like a cascade of foamy lace. He sets her down on the bed “Wife”

“Husband”  She launches herself at him throwing her arms around his neck.

“wife.” He laughs

“I can’t get the dress off.” He announces a short while later

“You what?”  She turns her head trying to see over her shoulder.

“I can’t get the dress off!”

She snorts and then laughs. “Well there goes that moment. This is what we get for ordering a gown from Antiva!”

“Maker’s breath Shouldn’t Antivan gowns be easier to get off?”

“You’d think so wouldn’t you.” She laughs more finding this hilarious. “Am I to be stuck in a wedding gown for the rest of my life?”

“I certainly hope not” He growls.

There.  he finally manages to unhook the fastenings and the cloth slips from her skin landing in a heap around her knees on the end of the bed. She turns and carefully helps him remove his doublet and the light gold chainmail. They lean against each other her body fitting perfectly in his from earlier embrace for just a moment. Then she leans over backward and they fall into a laying position on the bed arms still wrapped around each other. She helps him remove his pants and small clothes as he helps her remove hers.  

“wife”

“husband”

They make love as the sun dips below the horizon and the room grows dark around them. To be honest it’s not as if anything has changed besides a chantry endorsement. To be honest they are better at this then when they first started.  But that doesn’t stop Torania from still feeling a sense of wonder overlapping with the ecstasy. He is a miracle, her miracle. She will never know how something like him could come to exist in this world. To be honest this more than anything, more even then her experience with the ashes of Andraste convinces her that the maker is real.  

 

* * *

 

 

She wakes laying in the stillness curled against his side like always. But unlike always it is still dark out. What woke her?  There is a bark and scrapping sound from the shut door and she feels him stir beside her as she lights a candle. The light illuminates another face in the darkness, one she does not know. But it is what the hand attached to the face is holding that draws her attention. A dagger dipped in some liquid. An assassin! The eyes blink in shock but only for a moment. Then he goes in for the kill. Goes to stab Alistair who is now reaching for his sword. Instinct overtakes her. “NO!” She throws herself at the would be assassin reaching for blades she only remembers at the last moment are not there.  Having thwarted the assassin’s plan to get at her husband she recoils but it is too late. She gasps, blood spluttering from her mouth as the man’s blade punctures deep into her side.

Alistair’s Eyes go wide as he sees the man stab his wife. He lops off the man’s head then he’s thrown his sword to the side. Perhaps not the smartest move, there could be more of them, but he’s beyond caring at this point. “Torania.” He pulls her into his arms. She coughs and blood splutters from her mouth again. “Agata!” he bellows for the healer. “Hold on” His eyes are huge as she coughs up more blood. He cradles her. “You’re not going to die.” Her eyes are glazing over. “Hey look at me. Look at me…” He looks helplessly at the knife. It had looked poisoned, but if he pulls it out now she might bleed out. He looks back at her face. Her eyes are halfway shut. Unseeing now. “No! Torania listen to me!” He pulls her hand to his cheek “Just stay awake! Agata is coming! Agata!!!” He screams for the healer again. She seems to see him for a second. Her mouth tilts up slightly in a smile then her eyes shut and her face goes slack. Alistair screams.

The word is a haze of flashes of semi-alertness and blackness. Blue light in the corner of her eyes. Faces she can’t quite make out. Voices she can’t understand the words of. Touches she can’t focus her mind on and darkness. Darkness above all.

She wakes in a bed. Not their usual bed. There is a pain in her side and it takes her a moment to orient herself.  Her eyes shift to the side where her arm is stretched out across the bed. He’s holding her hand in his, his head bowed.

“Alistair.”

He looks up. A relived laugh coming from his mouth “You.. You’re awake… Oh Maker I thought…” There is a crease of worry between his brow. Suddenly he is mad “What were you thinking!?”

“I couldn't let him kill you!”

“So instead they should kill you?” He stands up and sits on the bed leaning over and pressing his forehead against hers, shutting his eyes tightly. 

“I forgot I didn't have my weapons.” She whispers.

“You forgot...” his breath huffs against her face. If his eyes weren't closed he would be rolling them now.

“Oy you! Pretty boy! Off the patient!” Agata’s sharp voice rings out. He groans and sits up again. The small healer shoves him to the side. She is surprisingly strong. He watches as she looks over Torania. There is a nasty looking scar on his wife’s side.

“You’re going to be keeping that scar I’m afraid. The blade had some magic blocking poison and I've had to fight a battle with it to heal you.  I was not focused on cosmetics. “

Torania shrugs. The scar means nothing to her. Then she goes to move to get out of bed and yelps. Alistair’s jaw tightens and he takes and involuntary step forward before the mage's glare stops him in his tracks.

“Stop moving you stubborn woman! You’re still healing! Some of this is going to have to heal naturally without magic! There is no reason for me or any other healer to waste mana on fighting the poison when you are out of danger. We’ll be waiting until your body causes the poison to break down naturally to finish healing you."  She turns back to Alistair. “Now you can go back to your canoodling. Just don’t move her… or more importantly let her move!” Agata flounces out of the room.


End file.
